It wasn’t going to work. Not this time. Not when her life was on the line. He already had the pressure injector in his hand, ready for this moment, because he knew it would come.
“I know it won’t.” Moving too fast for her to stop him, he flipped the lock on her helmet, lifted it, and pressed the injector to her neck. “Mace. Catch.”
The big man was behind her in an instant.
“No!” she shouted before her eyes rolled back and her body went limp.
It took seconds to secure her over Striker’s shoulders, her arms tied to his waist to stop them from waving around.
“She’s going to be pissed when she wakes.” Mace walked behind them to ensure no part of her body entered the mist. “She just doesn’t stop, does she?”
“Nope.” He shifted her weight, holding her tight with one arm clamped around the back of her thighs and the other hand on her rear. She wasn’t heavy, and he’d be able to carry her all the way out of the mist. For some reason that calmed him. The thought of letting anyone else hold her made him want to roar his displeasure.
“Never seen someone behave like that in the mist before. Normally people are terrified to touch the damn stuff and struck dumb because they’re concentrating on staying alive. Not Friday. She’s too busy asking dumbass questions.”
Her questions weren’t dumb, they were just…plentiful. “I’m telling the team she thinks your animal is an armadi
llo.”
“Asshole.”
Content to have a quiet Friday in his arms, Striker kept his focus on getting her out of the red zone in one piece.
Chapter Nineteen
“I can’t believe you sedated me. Are you aware of how ethically wrong that is? You can’t sedate a person against their will.” Friday tugged off the protective suit while she railed at the men. Her head was foggy, and her mouth felt like it was full of dry foam. “It’s assault. That’s what it is. Assault. I don’t think I like you anymore.”
“You like me just fine.” Striker’s smile was as smugly arrogant as his drawl.
“No, I don’t. I like your diamondback, but you I could do without.”
His smile grew wider, and her heart stuttered a little. She wished that eyepatch was gone so she could see both eyes. Somehow it was reassuring to see the snake staring out at her along with the man.
“You might change your mind if I tell you the snake agreed with me that we had to knock you out.”
“No!” She kicked off the heavy boots and reached for the lightweight shoes Striker had dug out of their supply trunk. The soles were thick, but the upper part of the shoe adjusted to fit the wearer. They were ugly but functional—exactly what she was used to. There had been no need for fashion or vanity in her life; practical was definitely better for the labs. “Did the snake tell you that? Are you lying?”
He placed a hand over his heart. “Would I lie to you, bébé?”
“You’d do whatever you thought was best for you.”
“And you.” His smile turned to a frown. “And yeah, the snake cheered me on when I knocked you out. He said you don’t listen too good to instructions.”
“He did not.” Now the infuriating man was making things up to justify his heinous behavior.
He shrugged then turned his back on her, rummaging around in the chest.
“Sit,” Mace ordered. “Eat.” He pointed at the nutrition bars beside her.
“I don’t like you, either,” she told him. “You were complicit in his behavior.”
“Ask me if I care.” The man-mountain sat down on a rock and started to demolish a large box of bars.
“Don’t forget to drink.” Striker sat down on a rock near to her. “Remember what happened last time. We can’t afford you getting dehydrated again.”
With her teeth clenched in frustration, she snatched the bottle of water he offered. “You want me to stay in the caves and study your genes when I get back from La Paz. That means getting in and out of the Red Zone at least twice more. Probably even more than that, as I’ll need to go get samples and equipment. Do you plan to knock me out every time I have to go through the mist?”
They exchanged a look that made it clear they thought her question was stupid.